


Life Saver Pt. 1

by koreanboyswriting



Series: Life Saver [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Doctor Kim Namjoon | RM, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koreanboyswriting/pseuds/koreanboyswriting
Summary: After a horrible car accident puts you in the hospital, your doctor puts new hope into your life.





	Life Saver Pt. 1

The light was making everything white. You blinked several times trying to see beyond the blinding white light, when the oval light fixture came into focus and you could see the tan circle in the center of it and the plastic arm the light was extended from; that reached around and connected to the bottom of the table you were on. 

The noise came next. You could hear the beeping of machines and the bustle of people running around you. 

“She’s awake! Keep her on the ventilator till her pulse is stronger. Get me an IV of vitamin K, and a bag of o negative. She’s bleeding internally. We’re going to have to find the blood vessel, she’s bleeding too much”

You could hear the doctor’s voice, but it sounded like it was coming from another room like you had your ear pressed against the door, trying to listen in. The people were walking around you, but they looked like blue blobs in their scrubs that covered them from head to toe. The doctor was leaning over you and holding your eyes open, running his flashlight back and forth and shouting out orders but all you could see was the shape of the glasses on his face and his full lips as they moved. You couldn’t tell if he was asking you a question or shouting to the nurses. He pulled up his face mask and slipped a mask over your mouth and then the darkness swallowed you whole again.

***

You opened your mouth slowly, reaching out your tongue to your cracked lips, coating the rough edges in saliva. You coughed weakly and tried to open your eyes slowly, the dim light already hurting your unopened eyes.

“Oh my goodness, she’s awake. Honey, she’s awake.” You could hear your mother’s voice in the room, but you had no idea where she was until she grabbed your hand lightly, her soft skin soothing circles into your hand, moving with ease around the giant clip that was around one of your fingers like she had been doing it for ages. When your eyes could finally open all the way, you realized you were in the hospital. The ceiling tiles were sparkling white and you stared at them, your eyes adjusting to seeing in such clarity.

“Honey, go get the doctor, tell him y/n is awake!” You tried to turn your stiff neck, but the thick neck brace you were wearing stopped you, so you could just barely see your mother pushing your teary-eyed father out the door. 

You coughed weakly again, and your mother squeezed your hand lightly and leaned over you. “Did you need something honey?” She asked her voiced laced with worry.

“I’m thirsty.” You rasped, your throat dry and feeling like it was packed with dirt.

“Well, I would imagine, you’ve been asleep for the last two days.” The doctor said as he walked in the door, you tried lifting your head a little to see him come in, but your neck ached and shot a sharp pain throughout the rest of your body when you tried to move it again.

“Easy there,” the doctor said, as he walked over to you and grabbed the remote to raise your bed. “You were in a very bad accident, and your body is pretty banged up, so I’m going to need you to take it easy. Your body is going to feel sore for a while, you broke your right foot, there’s a slight crack in your femur in your left leg, and you cracked and bruised a couple of your ribs. Your neck is fine, but I’m going to ask you to keep the brace on for at least the rest of the day and wear it at night for a week to keep you from stressing the muscles in any sleep positions you could get into. Don’t freak out about the lack feeling you have in your legs right now, the accident tweaked a nerve in the bottom of your spine and you’re going to have limited motion down there for a while, but rest assured it should heal on its own with physical therapy and rest. How are you feeling right now? What is your pain like on a scale of one to ten?” 

You were upright now, your bed angled into a recliner-like seat, and you could finally see the doctor fully. He was gorgeous there was no other way to put it. His lips were full and rosy and the glasses he wore complimented his face beautifully. His dark brown hair was pushed back from his face and parted nicely, and his warm brown eyes were looking into yours as you tried to come up with some response. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, you said you were thirsty.” He turned to the nightstand and poured water from the pitcher into a plastic cup, stuck in a bendy straw, and raised it to your mouth, so you could take a long sip. 

The time gave you a couple seconds to gather your thoughts and when he set the cup back down, you cleared your throat lightly and spoke, “I feel okay and I guess the pain is a five…” You trailed off and looked down at your legs; you tried to wiggle your toes, but like the doctor said, there was little to no motion. You could see the giant cast that covered your foot up to your calf underneath the sheets and the other which covered your leg up to your thigh, you then noticed the aching in your chest now as you breathed.

“Okay a tough one,” The doctor smiled at you and your face flushed, “I’m going to put you on some light painkillers and prescribe you some to take home, I’m going to ask your parents to keep you here for another week for observation, just to make sure everything is healing fine.”

Your parents nodded solemnly, and you stared down at your legs again, “Excuse me doctor, how long will it be before I regain feeling in my legs again?”

He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes, “Well that just depends on your own body’s recuperation process.”

“Wait, so you’re saying it could take weeks?” You were trying not to panic but your face was turning red and the cast and the neck brace was starting to feel stifling.

“Well yes, but more like months, till your body is fully healed.” His eyes were sad, and he was trying to keep the emotion from spreading across his face. You could tell.

“Months?!” You squeaked incredulously, your voice still dry. “But my job, I won’t be able to work, I have to be on my feet all the time. How long before I can work?”

“Ms. y/ln I’m going to have to advise you to take some time off work, every person’s body heals differently and at its own pace, I can’t give you a specific time frame, but I can do whatever I can to help speed your recovery.” His voice was even and soft, but it was doing nothing to soothe you.

“So, you’re saying I’m bed-ridden for months!?” You tried to keep from yelling, but it felt like someone had locked you in a closet and turned off the lights and left you to fumble around to try and get out. Except your body was the closet and you didn’t know what to do.

“It all really depends on the physical therapy and how your body takes to it. You could have limited mobility in two months possibly.” He crossed his hands in front of him.

You tried not to freak out and went for calm instead hoping they would all give you some space for a minute. You scrunched your eyes closed and tried to soothe your rapid breathing and your parents and the doctor got up to leave the room.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. y/ln,” the doctor said, “My name is Namjoon, let me know if you need anything else, whenever, I’ll be here.” 

You kept your eyes closed and nodded, pushing into your eyes with your middle finger and thumb, while everyone emptied out of the room till you were left alone, sitting there in silence. When you opened your eyes, you could see them in your peripheral talking outside the door. Your mom was crying onto your dad’s shoulder like you were dead. And Namjoon looked like he was trying to assure them that you would be okay, sadness in his eyes and one of his hands on your mother’s shoulder. You looked up the ceiling again and counted the tiles until you fell asleep, hoping that the next day would be better than this.

***

The sleep didn’t last long though, your eyes flew open in the middle of the night and your entire body ached so bad, the slightest movement shot sharp pain through every muscle. You started crying and the neck brace felt suffocating again and you just wanted to scream. You tried to look around the room, but it was empty, your parents must have gone home for the night. You tried to close your eyes again and breathe deeply to soothe yourself back to sleep, but every twitch hurt, and every breath felt like knives in your chest. The tears came back in yelling, heaving sobs until a Dr. Namjoon came running in the door.

“Y/n, how are you doing? Talk to me.” He pulled his stethoscope from around his neck, put the buds in his ears and started listening to your heart. You cried and whimpered but tried to stay still and take deep breaths as he listened, but the pain was just too much, and the heaving sobs returned.

“Talk to me y/n? What’s the pain like from 1-10? Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” He was checking your vitals, looking over every machine to find something that was plausible to help you.

You furrowed your brows and forced yourself to speak, “An 11.”

Namjoon’s head whipped towards you as his eyes flashed with concern before being masked with doctor calmness and efficiency. He hit a large red button on the wall and a nurse came rushing through the door in seconds. 

“I need a morphine drip right now.” He said loudly not even turning to face her as he continued checking the machines and your vitals. He picked up the clipboard that hung on the end of your bed and set it down quickly and began to lightly probe your torso with his fingers, looking for discrepancies, you guessed. Once he got to your abdomen, he felt the area, then paused and the nurse came rushing through the door. She hooked up the bag and instated an IV drip into the arm on the left side of your body. The nurse was puttering around the room grabbing gauze to tape over the needle, and obviously hanging around in case Dr. Namjoon needed her.

“I think she’s having a pulmonary embolism, we need blood thinners now.” Dr. Namjoon said to the nurse, who rushed out of the room before his eyes could meet hers.

“Now, try to stay calm and take shallow breaths. A pulmonary embolism is just a blood clot, which I think might have been a side effect from the internal bleeding you had two days ago. Once we inject you with these blood thinners, you should be just fine.” He had his hand on top of yours as he said this, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his skin on yours. Putting all the focus of your brain into those two hands, trying to forget about the pain. You barely nodded and Dr. Namjoon smiled, “What a fighter.” 

The nurse came back to the room which saved Dr. Namjoon from noticing your deep blush. She handed him the vial and needle, which he inserted into the bottle and drew back, till it was halfway full of clear liquid, which he injected into the line that was feeding morphine into your body.

The medicine was numbing the pointy edges of your pain now, till it was just centered in your chest and you didn’t feel like you were dying anymore. You breathed deeply a couple times and tried to just think about your lungs filling with air. When you opened your eyes Dr. Namjoon was taking off his glasses and putting them in his lab coat pocket, as the nurse left the room. 

“How did you get here so fast?” You asked him, once your body calmed down.

“I was actually coming by to check on you. I’m on call tonight, and your parents had to go home, so I knew there would be no one in here with you. I’m going to have to recommend to your parents though that you stay here longer. If these blood clots become a regular occurrence, we’re going to have to run more tests.” Namjoon said all of this, while he scribbled notes down on a pad which he took from his jacket, the pages thick with scribbles.

You nodded, “Thank you for being very forthcoming with me, I wouldn’t like being kept in the dark with my treatment.”

He nodded and smiled, “Of course.” He slid the notepad back into his pocket and clicked his pen, before sliding it into his front breast pocket. He then grabbed his glasses turned to leave.

“Wait. Dr. Namjoon?” You bit your lip, wishing you kept your mouth shut.

He turned around and clasped his hands while he smiled warmly, “Yes y/n?”

“Would you mind staying and talking with me for a moment?” You paused. “I don’t think I fall asleep right now.” You scratched your neck through a hole in the brace.

His eyes softened, and he nodded pulling over a chair to your bed. He crossed his legs when he sat and made himself comfortable, even though he looked unsure of what to do.

“So, how long have you been a doctor?” You asked, and immediately felt stupid for asking the most basic question ever. 

“About a year on my own now, but I’ve been practicing for three with other resident doctors.” He said while scratching the back of his neck.

“Wait, but how old are you?” You asked incredulously.

“Twenty-four.” He said simply.

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead, “Holy shit.”

Namjoon chuckled a knowing smile on his face, “I know, I graduated high school early and then college early and so on.”

“Dang, I feel unaccomplished now.” You looked down at your hands. Namjoon just laughed harder at your dramatics.  
“Did you always know you wanted to be a doctor?” You asked, trying to scoot higher on the bed.

Namjoon stood up and grabbed the remote for your bed and elevated it, so your upper body was more upright. “Well yeah, I just knew I wanted to be able to really touch people’s lives in a significant way. And medicine just felt like the right path.” He smiled at his hands before sitting the controller down and looking into your eyes.

Your cheeks flushed and you looked down at your hands, messing with the clip on your finger.

Namjoon sat back down in the chair and crossed his legs, “And what about you?”

You looked up at him, “What about me?”

Namjoon laughed. “What do you do?”

“Oh,” You giggled, “I work as a stylist for Vogue magazine.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, “Now I feel unaccomplished.”

You laughed loudly, clutching your chest from the pain in your ribs. “Oh yeah, you should mister youngest doctor in the world. I’m out here saving the world, one Gucci outfit at a time.” Namjoon laughed so hard his eyes welled up, and he had to rub the tears off on his lab coat sleeve. 

***

The next morning Namjoon told your parents he would like to keep you at the hospital for two weeks to run tests and observations after the incident last night. Your parents were freaked out and agreed immediately. They stayed with you all day every day after that and brought you your things from your apartment. You tried to your best to work from your hospital bed, while your mom and dad tried to help you stay comfortable. At night Namjoon would come by and you would talk for an hour, until he had to leave and walk his rounds again. Sometimes you would try to stay up when he came by your room again, but most of the time you drifted off to sleep, your heavy eyelids betraying you. 

You ended up only staying a week and a half, your body healing quickly, except for your legs. You tried to remain optimistic if only for Namjoon’s sake, who looked defeated every time he came by and there was no improvement in the feeling in your legs. He assured you once you started really getting into your physical therapy, besides the basic stretches they had you doing in your hospital bed every day, you would really start to see the difference. You held onto that hope really tightly because you didn’t know what you would do if you didn’t get the feeling back. It was a reality that you wouldn’t entertain. So, once you left the hospital, you threw yourself completely into the physical therapy. After three weeks the cast on your left leg came off, the slight crack healing the fastest. Then you spent hours at the therapy office every day, training and working out and forcing yourself to stand on your limp legs.

At first, there was nothing. Then a few weeks went by and you could feel a tickle in your spine. Then another few weeks and there was a tingle in your toes. And then the next few days you could feel the stretch in the muscles in your thighs. And then finally two months after you left the hospital you were on your feet again, completely. The cast on your foot came off and you started running every day and doing yoga every weekend, determined to regain back your strength in your legs.

When you went back to work you felt like you could breathe again. Everyone told you looked better than you ever had before, and while you were sure they were just all being good friends, you did feel better than you ever had before. And you realized you held onto this hope that you would get back to yourself because of the assurance of one fantastic doctor and you realized that you had to thank him.

***

It was Friday morning, two months and two weeks since your accident. You still had a scar on your abdomen from where they opened you up to stop the internal bleeding and you had a few more on your legs. The casts that were on your legs were long gone and your muscles were stronger than they were before the accident. You got dressed in sleek black outfit and headed out into the cool New York weather. You had two hours till you had to be at work, and you were determined to at least spend thirty of those minutes thanking Dr. Namjoon and all he had done for you. 

When you got off the subway you made your way to hospital and headed through the automatic glass doors. You bought some flowers in a glass vase from the gift shop and then walked into the first floor. Patients and nurses bustled everywhere, and it felt weird to be back in the place where you had almost died. You took off your hat and ruffled your bangs before walking up to the front desk to ask if Dr. Namjoon was working. The harried lady at the front desk only answered in three words, “Yes. Fifteenth floor.” You thanked her, but she was already answering another call on her earpiece, typing furiously on her keyboard. 

You walked into the large elevator holding the vase close to your chest as you shoved your hat into your bag. You were one of many people in the industrial sized elevator and the silence in the ascending metal box was making you feel incredibly anxious. You almost wanted to get out on a random floor and just take the stairs all the way down and never come back, but you breathed deeply, told yourself you were being stupid and held your head high. 

When the doors pinged open on the fifteenth floor, you exhaled and walked out the elevator. The floor was pretty quiet except for the sounds of phones ringing and machines beeping and the few conversations going on behind closed doors. The walls and floors were white, and everything sparkled cleanly just as you remembered. You walked down the hallway, your heels clacking and echoing across the tile. When the hallway opened up you could see the large circle desk that took up the main lobby area, the waiting area was small and the walls all around the space were filled with doors, most closed but a few open to empty rooms. The lady at the desk looked up at the sound of your heels and smiled. She took off her headset and rushed around to hug you tightly. 

“Well look at you Ms. y/n. Don’t you look incredible walking on your own two legs again.” Ms. Maggie said cheerily.

“I’m surprised you remember me!” You laughed.

“Of course I do honey! I prayed for you every day.” She said and caressed your face sweetly.

Your eyes welled up and you looked at the ceiling blinking the tears away as Ms. Maggie rushed behind the desk as her phone rang. You set the vase on the counter and looked around the floor, as nurses and doctors walked around talking and comparing notes. And that’s when you saw him. His back was to you, as he dictated something to a nurse in one of the rooms and turned to leave. He closed the door behind him and turned around to scribble something in the same small notebook he had when you were in one of those hospital beds. He slipped it back into his pocket and looked up, and that’s when he met your eyes.

Ms. Maggie hung up her phone and then typed something on her computer. “Alrighty, sorry about that dear, what can I help you with.” Your eyes were still locked onto Namjoon’s as he walked towards you, shock written on his face.

“Uhm. Nothing Ms. Maggie. I got it.” You pulled your bag higher on your shoulder, ruffled your bangs, picked up the vase and walk towards Namjoon. 

You met him in the middle, and he looked you up and down appreciatively. “Wow. Look at you. In heels! How are you?!”

His eyes were still wide with surprise and you giggled. “I’m great! I just thought I should come by to thank you. And give you these.” You held out the flowers and Namjoon smiled warmly taking them from your hands, his long fingers brushing yours.

“These are beautiful, thank you. Here, follow me to my office.” He walked forward towards the front desk again, walking past Ms. Maggie who was smirking at you and winked when you walked by. He turned at the end of the desk and led you into the third door along the wall. The frosted glass on the door embezzled with his name in black font. 

The office was simple and small. There was a mahogany desk facing the window, which looked over a beautiful expanse of buildings, and you could just see Central Park in the distance. There was another desk that mirrored the first with two chairs in front of it like a principal’s office. And there was a leather couch against the navy painted walls adjacent to the desk. The walls were decorated with certificates, ribbons, professional pictures, and one single shelf that held a row of figurines next to a stack of medical books. 

Namjoon set the vase down next to his computer on his desk and sat in the office chair, motioning for you to sit down anywhere. 

“Well, how was your recovery? Everything go okay?” He asked.

You sat in the chair across from him and crossed your legs, “Yeah it was great. I worked really hard and it paid off.”

“Yeah, you look fantastic!” He blushed, “I mean you look very healthy and you seem to have healed just fine.”

You giggled, “Thank you Dr. Namjoon.”

“You can just call me Namjoon,” He said, his face flushed.

You smiled. “Okay.”

Namjoon rotated the vase on his desk and cleared his throat awkwardly. You looked down at your watch and then stood up abruptly.

“Well, I just really wanted to thank you because you helped me so much, but I should get going. Thank you for everything.”

You dipped your head and walked out the door, hooking your bag on your shoulder. Your heels clacked loudly once again the tile and you winked at Ms. Maggie when you walked by and she winked back, making you smile. The elevator had just pinged open, two women walking out as you walked towards it quickly and held it open with your hand. Namjoon came running down the hall just as you walked through the open metal doors.

“Wait! Y/n.” He yelled.

It was your turn now to be shocked as he held the crumpled note from the flowers in his hand. 

He scratched the back of his neck and coughed before he spoke. “I know that this is super last minute, but would you perchance want to go on a date. Tonight.”

You smiled brightly. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”


End file.
